


plant harmony or burn the tree

by StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, Introspection, Nebula-centric (Marvel), POV Nebula (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese/pseuds/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese
Summary: “You will always be my sister,” Gamora had said.Nebula had said nothing in response. She just left.Gamora wanted her to follow her. Gamora wanted to beat her,just like she always did.Well, Nebula wasn’t going to let her do it this time.Nebula will not follow in anyone’s footsteps, least of all Gamora’s.Never again.(A Nebula-centric, introspective fic.)
Relationships: Gamora & Nebula (Marvel), Nebula & Rocket Raccoon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	plant harmony or burn the tree

**Author's Note:**

> If you catch the Pendragon reference, kudos to you!

“You will always be my sister,” Gamora had said.

Nebula had said nothing in response. She just left.

Gamora wanted her to follow her. Gamora wanted to beat her, _just like she always did._

Well, Nebula wasn’t going to let her do it this time.

Nebula will not follow in anyone’s footsteps, least of all Gamora’s.

Never again.

* * *

Nebula will never admit it to anyone, but when she first met Gamora, she had been _excited_ to have a sister.

Nebula did not remember her family, nor anything before Thanos. Gamora did. 

Nebula only had the faintest memory of their meeting, the fuzziest impression of Life Before Gamora.

But she knew that before Gamora came, _Nebula_ had been the favorite. She still remembered Thanos’s hand caressing her hair– because she _still had hair,_ then. She still remembered the look in his eyes– the look that only Gamora got, now. There had been no reason to think that that might change.

Nebula had been the one with the drive, the passion, the easily-molded mind that Thanos craved.

And then Gamora arrived.

Nebula had not met her right away. Usually, when Thanos picked up children, he would dump them right into the barracks and let them sink or swim.

But not Gamora.

There were rumors flying around the dormitory, that Thanos had found a new child, that he liked her more than the others, that she would one day succeed him as ruler of the new world.

Ridiculous.

Everybody knew Thanos hated children.

But then, Nebula was called to battle with this new child.

 _I’ll go easy on her,_ Nebula thought, remembering how it felt to be so thoroughly crushed by her older, more experienced siblings, back when she still lost. 

But Gamora… 

Gamora was older than she was.

Gamora was taller than she was.

Gamora was better-fed than she was.

_Gamora was, Gamora was, Gamora was…_

Gamora was a lot of things, and it didn’t change that one, irrefutable fact, the one that trumped all the others.

Gamora was _better than her._

Nebula lay flat on her back, staring blankly up at this new girl, who had _beaten her._ How was this possible? How could it be that Thanos was smiling, giving the new girl the look that was meant for _her,_ how could any of this be true?

She vowed then and there that it would never happen again.

It did.

* * *

They fought again a week later.

The last thing she remembered was Gamora breaking her arm.

Nebula woke up two hours later with no arm and a brand-new pain in her soul.

* * *

They don’t see each other too much, after killing the planet-god. Perhaps once or twice a month, and only for a few seconds, and only through stilted virtual conversations.

_“Have you found him yet?”_

_“No. Have you?”_

_“No.”_

_“How are you doing, Nebula?”_

_“...Goodbye, Gamora.”_

Nebula likes it that way. She _does._

But apparently, Gamora, with her stupid, foolish, _sappy new ways,_ doesn’t.

No, she wants to _talk_ to Nebula. Which is the _one thing_ Nebula absolutely does not want to do with Gamora of all people.

But she humors her sister.

Against her better judgement.

“Do you remember Veelox?” Gamora asks one day, before Nebula can escape the call.

Nebula frowns, surprised. Veelox was a planet that Thanos had sent them to once, when Nebula was seventeen and bitter and Gamora was twenty-one-almost-twenty-two and the apple of their father’s eye. They had gotten lost in the orchards of the planet and wound up wandering for days, arguing and talking and sleeping, away from Thanos’s watchful eyes for the first time. It had been the first time– maybe the only time– Nebula had really felt like she had a _sister._

“No,” she says, and moves to end the call, but Gamora keeps talking before she can stop her.

“We stole those fruits,” she says. “Remember?”

She does. They had been soft and sweet, and the sticky juice had dribbled down her chin and gotten all over her hands. Gamora had squeezed her fruit too hard and it had exploded all over her. They had laughed together. Looking back, it had easily been one of the best times of Nebula’s life.

“So what?” Nebula says.

“Remember the nights?” she asks.

Nebula hesitates.

_The first night in the orchard, they had been unsure and tentative. They had lain next to each other, watching the stars and wondering if their father’s ship was up there, somewhere._

_The second night, they had play-wrestled and Gamora had given her tips on winning fights against their siblings. Nebula had told her stories of the time before Gamora came, of their siblings and of Thanos. She remembered her childhood better, back then. Veelox had been before most of the brain implants._

_They talked every night. But it’s the third night, the final night before their siblings found them, that Nebula remembers every word of._

_“We could escape,” Gamora had whispered, on that last night, the night with no moon. “We could escape right now, and no one would know. They'd say we died.”_

_Escape? What a funny choice of words._

_“That’s foolishness,” Nebula had said, which was true, and then, “I don’t want to,” which was a lie._

_“He’s evil, Nebula.”_

_“He loves you, Gamora.”_

_Gamora had shifted beside her. “That doesn’t mean I don’t see his evil.”_

_Nebula had laughed, harsh and sharp. “Makes it a lot easier to tolerate, though.”_

_Gamora was silent. And then she said, sounding so young and frail suddenly: “Will you tell him?”_

_Nebula was silent._

_Gamora huffed, and turned to lie on her stomach._

_They didn’t speak again for the rest of the night._

_The next day, Nebula looked her father squarely in the eyes, and, when he asked, said that the night was uneventful._

_Gamora had caught up with her in the hallway later on._

_“Thank–”_

_“I hate you,” Nebula said. “I hate you. Why did you make me lie to him?”_

_“You told the truth,” she said. “Nobody tried to escape.”_

_“Don’t say that word.”_

_“What?”_

_“Escape.”_

_“It’s true, though.”_

_“It’s not true. Come on, Gamora, you of all people know it’s not true. He makes the rules around here. It’s not escape. It’s defection.”_

_“Nebula–”_

_“I hate you,” Nebula said again, and ran._

_They never talked that way again. Afterwards, it was passing comments and biting quips and jabs at the other’s weaknesses. They knew how to hurt each other better than anyone, but it still wasn’t enough. It was never enough to_ beat her.

Nebula could feel Gamora’s eyes on her, watchful, expectant.

“No,” Nebula says, and ends the call.

* * *

Nebula’s childhood wasn’t all bad.

Well, it was mostly bad. But sometimes it was less bad than usual.

Like the times she and Gamora were allowed to team up for fights. Or the times Thanos left them alone for weeks at a time. Or the times when he sent one or both of them on missions, and Nebula caught a glimpse of Life Without Gamora.

(That was unfair.

It was not Gamora she hated, and she knew it.

But there was nobody else to safely hate.)

* * *

When Thanos is torturing her, it is all Nebula can do to _not laugh._

Yes, it hurts. Yes, she is in pain. But Nebula has been in pain ever since she fell unconscious during _that fight_ as a child and woke up with a brand-new arm.

At first, she thinks Thanos is trying to intimidate her with pain.

But then, his true motivations became clear.

He wants Gamora.

Because it’s always Gamora. It’s Gamora, Gamora, Gamora.

And even now, even as she’s being _tortured_ by him, even now Nebula isn’t good enough.

And then Gamora is _right there_ and Nebula is screaming and _why here, why now, why this of all times do you take pity on me?_ and _when I was a child and needed saving you did nothing but now now now you save me now when I have nothing left to lose, now when saving me is the worst option possible, now when I am ready for the pain, now when I can take it, why why why–_

But Gamora saves her.

And there is a cost.

There is always a cost.

For all of Nebula’s childhood, she wished Gamora would protect her, that she would take a blow meant for Nebula, just _once_ act like the sister she was meant to be.

And now, Gamora finally has.

_Damn her._

* * *

When… _it_ happens, Nebula thought she would know.

But she doesn’t.

She doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know until Thanos comes, and he has the Soul Stone.

There’s only one way he could have gotten that.

Her whole life, Nebula followed Gamora. She was always second place, always second best, and then she was sent off on a wild chase around the galaxy to bring Gamora back to their father, to prove once and for all that she was deserving of their love.

But now… 

Half the universe is gone.

Gamora is dead.

There is nobody left to follow.

* * *

She stays with Rocket, because what else can she do?

Together, they tour the galaxy, and they even save people a few times. Every time, Nebula wishes her sister was there to see it. That she was there to see Nebula finally becoming the person that Gamora believed she could be.

Nebula even starts to enjoy Rocket’s company after a while– not that she would ever tell _him_ that.

Still, she teaches him Stark’s game one night.

Rocket’s hands form a smaller goal for Nebula to hit, but it is also more difficult for him to line up the shot. It evens out.

“This game sucks,” Rocket announces that night. “I mean, all Terran games suck, but this one _especially_ does. Who did you say taught it to you again?”

“Stark.”

“Oh, well, there’s your answer. The only humie dumber than Qui–”

He stops abruptly.

Nebula says nothing.

For a long moment, they just sat there in silence.

Then Rocket clears his throat. He swishes his tail.

“The only humie dumber than Quill,” he says, and takes a deep breath.

“Take the shot,” Nebula says, lining up her fingers.

He does.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Nebula doesn’t even think about her sister. She just plays.

* * *

And then Gamora is _back,_ and for the very first time, Nebula is on the other side of the conversation.

_You have to know that Thanos is evil. He will never love you. You’re a fool._

She can tell Gamora is unsettled by her– Nebula doesn’t blame her for that. Seeing two versions of your sister side-by-side must be strange. 

But it’s deeper than that.

Gamora is pacing, her voice is strained, her hands are clenching and unclenching, she watches the battle below them as if transfixed.

It takes Nebula a few minutes to figure it out, and when she does, she almost laughs out loud.

Gamora is afraid.

Gamora is afraid of being replaced by _Nebula._

 _Nebula,_ of all people. It’s ridiculous.

Besides, Gamora has nothing to worry about. As soon as her younger self has finished infiltrating the Avengers, Thanos will no longer need either of them, and Gamora will once again be his darling daughter.

Still, some long-buried, still-bitter part of herself she wishes weren't there thinks _how does it feel? How does it feel, to finally be second-best? How does it feel, to finally not be number one?_

But Nebula doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she sits and she waits. She waits for her sister’s better nature to win out. She waits for Gamora to look up and see the light.

_Come on, sister. You did it alone once. You can do it with your sister now._

And then, when Gamora finally offers her hand, Nebula reaches up and _takes it._

* * *

The funny thing about shooting yourself is that you would think you ought to have one or two nightmares about it.

But Nebula doesn’t.

It’s not that she can’t dream– she _can_ dream; not even Thanos would dare try to modify her brain to that extent. Not out of some misguided loyalty to his daughter, of course, but simply because he didn’t want to waste her parts should anything go wrong.

But she doesn’t dream about herself, or about her monster of a father.

No, she dreams about Gamora.

(And isn’t _that_ annoying– how even in Nebula’s own dreams, Gamora takes precedence. Typical.)

In her dreams, Gamora is a child, looking identical to the girl she was on the day they met. Nebula has to kneel to look at her. Some warped, twisted part of her mind that still belongs to Thanos whispers that now, _now,_ even if only in her dreams, Nebula might finally be able to take her sister out.

But they don’t fight. They just look at each other.

“I’m sorry,” Nebula says, and her voice comes out high and smooth and non-mechanized. It is a child’s voice, manipulated by an adult tongue and lips. She will never hear her true voice as an adult.

Gamora always opens her mouth to answer.

But every time, Nebula wakes before she can hear it.

* * *

Every day, Nebula examines their maps and sifts through the Internet– a human invention that rapidly spread throughout the galaxy in the five years after the First Snap– to find any trace of her sister. 

Quill joins her every single time. She suspects he isn’t sleeping as much as he should, but that’s not her problem, so she doesn’t say anything.

“Any sign of her?” he’d ask.

“No,” she answered, every single time. “You?”

“No.”

The others join them, sometimes. Occasionally, Rocket drifts by to tease them or argue about where, exactly, Gamora could have fled to. Mantis drags Nebula off to spar more than once. The tree sulks in the background and forces Quill to snap at him to _get off that game, ya moron!_ Drax sharpens his knives and mostly keeps to himself. Thor plays with his lightning and, after he nearly kills them all with an ill-timed bolt, is confined to practicing _in his room only._

Every time they are interrupted, Quill and Nebula return to the search with all the more vigor.

“We’re going to find her,” Quill says to her.

He’s right. They will. She isn’t worried.

Nebula has practice at finding wayward family members, after all.

* * *

She finds Gamora in a seedy bar of some backwater, unnamed planet. 

The Guardians aren’t with her. She didn’t tell them where she was going. She is afraid of what Gamora would have done to them, if they knew.

Her sister is busy when Nebula walks in, so she gets a drink at the bar and waits.

Soon, Gamora finishes beating up the luckless criminal, and he is dragged away by his comrades.

And then Gamora meets Nebula’s eyes.

Nebula lifts her drink in a toast. A silent invitation.

Gamora hesitates.

And then she walks over.

“Where are your idiots?” Gamora says in greeting, and Nebula smirks.

“I didn’t tell them I was coming.”

 _And they’re your idiots, not mine,_ she thinks. She wonders if that’s true anymore.

“Why are you here, then?” Gamora asks.

“Can’t I come and see my sister?” Nebula wonders out loud. She looks Gamora up and down. She’s young. She used to be five years older than Nebula. Now Nebula is four years older than her.

Strange.

“We’re hardly sisters,” Gamora says, and Nebula returns to herself. 

She stirs her drink. “Thanos connected us.”

“Barely.”

“That’s fair,” Nebula concedes. She takes another sip of her drink. The alcohol burns. “And now he’s dead.”

“And now he’s dead,” Gamora agrees. “So why keep up this…” she gestures between the two of them, “pretense?”

Nebula shrugs. “Thanos was not the only thing connecting us.”

“In case you’ve forgotten,” Gamora says, “I never experienced being a Galaxy Guardian.”

“Guardian of the Galaxy,” Nebula corrects automatically, and Gamora wrinkles her nose.

“Well, that’s wordy.”

Nebula shrugs again. “I didn’t choose it. And that isn’t what I was talking about.”

“Oh?”

“Do you remember our time on Veelox?” she asks, and Gamora blinks in surprise.

“I thought you hated it.”

“I did,” Nebula says. “At the time.”

“You said you hated me.”

“That’s true,” Nebula says. “And you know why I said it.”

Gamora pauses.

“Even then, we both knew,” Nebula says. “We both knew, but you were the one brave enough to do something about it.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Gamora says. “I was still with him when you found me.”

“You were days away from going turncoat, Gamora, and we both know it,” Nebula says. “Come on. I’m curious. How long were you planning it?”

Gamora pauses again, but when Nebula just sits and waits, she sighs reluctantly. “Since the orchard. Well, since he took me, but… I started seriously planning after the orchard.”

“Hmm,” Nebula says. “Proved he wasn’t all-powerful, if he could lose the pair of us in a grove of trees.”

“Yes.”

“You always loved rebelling.”

Gamora stiffens. “So what?”

“He would love it,” Nebula says, “if his death meant that we were lost. That we could not go on. That we were splintered. Alone. You’re right, Gamora. Thanos brought us together. But there is no reason that he should be why we’re driven apart, too.” 

Gamora is silent. She stares at the wooden bar, fists clenched.

“You will always be my sister,” Nebula says.

She stands up. Finishes her drink in one gulp.

And then she leaves.

She leaves Gamora there, sitting at the bar, staring after her.

And then she hears the familiar sigh, the familiar rustling, and the familiar pattern of footsteps coming after her.

Nebula pushes open the bar door, waits a few seconds, and then takes her sister’s hand to show her the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? :)


End file.
